


just a stop frame in time

by astano



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. “What!” Quinn spluttered. “I have a—a prostitute sitting in my living room?” - Written for a GKM prompt (details inside).</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a stop frame in time

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt called for a Brittana fic, but I stole it and made it Faberry. Essentially (the prompt was long), Quinn's the daughter of a prominent conservative man and because of this, can't be gay so is in an arranged marriage. Her husband, who knows she's gay, regularly hires a prostitute (as he's not getting any at home) but he isn't there for one of their dates - Quinn is.
> 
> I've also set this up so I can add more to it if I want, but no promises.

Quinn Fabray was and always had been daddy’s little girl. She loved him with all her heart and he loved her, but she discovered very early in life that there were some things best kept from him. When he walked in on her in the middle of a very hot and heavy make out session with her best female friend at the age of fourteen, she’d promised him that it was a mistake, that she’d been taken advantage of and that it would never happen again. He’d sat her down at their kitchen table,  recited bible passages and explained at length why it wouldn’t do for a prominent politician to have a daughter even suspected of such disgusting acts of depravity. She’d listened and cried and begged him to forgive her her sins.

It didn’t stop her from being gay. It just made her a better liar.

She was now twenty-one and married to the son of one of her father’s oldest friends. It wasn’t a bad situation, things could have turned out far worse. Scott was a good man and she loved him, as much as she was capable. He knew she was gay and he didn’t care. His own father wanted him to settle down, to kick his bad habits, his drinking, his partying, and had gone so far as to alter the terms of his trust fund so he wasn’t entitled to receive anything until he had been married for five years.

It was almost the perfect solution, really. They appeared at family events, made a public appearance when her father was elected to a second term as Mayor and occasionally played up the young couple in love angle for the press, but after all obligations were met, Scott could return to his nights out on the town and Quinn was free to be herself.

She was just curling up on the sofa, intent on spending the last few hours of her Saturday evening finishing her book when the doorbell to their townhouse rang. Replacing her bookmark, she set the book down on her coffee table and padded through to open the door.

“Hello. Can I help you?” The woman on the other side of the door was young—probably around Quinn’s own age—and, Quinn realised as her eyes quickly swept over the body in front of her, absolutely stunning.

“Hi. Yes—I’m looking for Scott?”

The woman’s voice was deep, almost sensual, and Quinn felt the sound wash over her body almost like a physical caress. She shook her head in an effort to clear her mind from straying down a path that wasn’t prudent. “I’m sorry. He’s out at the moment. Would you like me to pass on a message for you?”

The woman frowned, the crease in her brow suddenly taking years off her age and Quinn found the look completely adorable. “We have a standing appointment,” she said. “Would you mind perhaps calling him for me? He’s never missed a date before.”

It seemed strange that the woman didn’t have Scott’s number, especially if they had regular appointments, but Quinn didn’t question her, instead, she gestured inside and, once the woman was sitting on the edge of the sofa, she picked up her phone from the coffee table and scrolled to Scott’s number.

Just before hitting the dial button, she realised she hadn’t even asked the woman her name. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Who do I tell him is waiting on his presence?”

“Rachel,” the woman replied. “Rachel Berry.”

***

Quinn moved into their kitchen to make the call, keeping an eye on the woman—on Rachel—through the gap in the door. After a few rings, Scott picked up and she didn’t even wait for him to finish saying hello before she hissed, “There’s a woman here Scott. A Rachel Berry. She says you have a standing appointment. What do I tell her?”

“Oh. I forgot.” Scott’s voice was almost overpowered by the sound of music in the background and Quinn thought he was probably in one of the clubs he favoured. She was mad at him—although she didn’t care about the women he chose to sleep with, obviously, it was a different matter when one just showed up at their door. And, now that she was away from Rachel’s presence, her mind seemed to have started working again, and she thought about what Rachel had said. A standing appointment? What was that about?

“Now, don’t get mad,” Scott started when she asked him just that. “She’s—she’s an escort.”

“What!” Quinn spluttered. “I have a—a _prostitute_ sitting in my living room?”

“An _escort_ , Quinn. Who—happens to provide additional services for a select number of clients...”

“I can’t believe you, Scott! What if my father finds out? Did you think about that? What if _your_ father finds out? You could ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to accomplish.”

“Quinn. Quinn. Calm down. I’ve been using Rachel for years. She’s very discreet.”

“I don’t even understand. Why would you even need—“

“She’s discreet, Quinn. More so than any of the girls I might meet elsewhere.” Quinn let out a huff, but it did actually make a warped kind of sense. “Just... apologise to her for me—she’s already been paid—and tell her I’ll see her for our next appointment.”

***

“Ms. Berry—“

“Please, call me Rachel,” the woman said with a smile.

“Rachel, then. Scott asked me to apologise for him. He’s tied up at the moment. He—uh—he said you should have already been paid for your services, so...”

“Oh. Well, it almost seems a shame to waste an evening, I have, as you’ve said, been paid for my services.”

Quinn blushed as she realised just what Rachel was suggesting. “What—no, I don’t—“ 

Rachel reached out, placing her fingertips lightly on Quinn’s arm and the touch set Quinn’s nerves alight. She shuddered, there was something about this woman. She was dangerous to be around, but Quinn couldn’t help but contemplate her offer.

“I can assure you, my female clients have _never_ had any complaints, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No. It’s just—I’ve never—not with anyone,” Quinn mumbled. She could feel the heat in her cheeks increasing with each second and couldn’t believe she’d just admitted to being a twenty-one year old virgin in front of a woman who sold sex for a living.

Rachel looked surprised and Quinn couldn’t blame her, really. “I thought you and Scott had an arrangement?” She asked.

“I can’t believe he told you about that...”

“Don’t worry,” Rachel said with a reassuring smile. “Client confidentiality is taken _very_ seriously in my line of work. You can trust me.”

Quinn nodded and then bit at her bottom lip for a moment before saying quietly, “I want to. Could we?”

“If you’re sure?” Rachel looked concerned now and suddenly Quinn was angry. It wasn’t fair that Scott got to gallivant around, sleeping with anyone he wanted, while she was afraid to even talk to another woman in case it somehow got back to her father. She could do this. She wanted to do this.

“I’m sure,” she said, her voice unwavering. “My bedroom’s this way.”

Once they reached her bedroom, however, Quinn started to feel nervous—she had absolutely no idea what she was doing—and stood in the middle of the room, wringing her hands.

“Hey,” Rachel said, coming up behind her and placing a soft kiss against Quinn’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. And if you want to stop things at any point, just say so.”

“Okay,” Quinn replied, then she turned around to face Rachel. “Can you—is kissing allowed?”

Rachel gave a light laugh. “Yes,” she said, leaning up so her lips were the barest millimetre away from Quinn’s. “Kissing’s allowed.”

Her lips were soft, Quinn thought absently, and she tasted faintly of lip gloss and mint. It was nice—it was more than nice. Just the light brush of Rachel’s lips over her own was sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting down her body. She let out a quiet hum of agreement and could feel Rachel smile against her. All coherent thought was lost, however, when Rachel’s tongue snaked out to flick against the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth willingly—eagerly, even—and when Rachel pressed into her mouth, stroking their tongues together, Quinn felt her knees go weak.

She brought her hands up to grasp at Rachel’s shoulders, trying to steady herself and Rachel pulled away slightly to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied and was surprised at the breathlessness of her own voice. “I’m just—you’re very good at that.”

Rachel let out a short laugh and Quinn felt silly, because _of course_ she was good at that. It had just been so easy to forget that Rachel was _paid_ to be good. She shook her head slightly. It was dangerous to forget.

Rachel leaned in again, pressing another kiss to Quinn’s lips before moving to kiss along her jaw then down to suck at her pulse point. Quinn shivered at the sensation and when Rachel scraped her teeth along the skin, she gasped in surprise. Rachel’s hands were no longer idle, they came up from where they’d been resting lightly on Quinn’s waist, pushing under her top and ghosting up the length of her back. Quinn could feel her skin prickling in response to the feather-light caress and she moaned, swaying on the spot as her body went pliant, giving in to the pleasure of Rachel’s touch.

“Please,” Quinn murmured. “I need...”

“What, sweetie? What do you need?”

Rachel was looking at her with such concern that for half a second, Quinn thought—but no, this was just a job to Rachel. Just a job. She _had_ to remember that.

“Can we go lie down?” She asked. “I don’t think—you’re making me weak.”

Rachel took her hand and walked them both over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling Quinn with her. She kissed her again, softly and Quinn whimpered. The time for soft was definitely over.

“Can we take this off?” Rachel asked, fingering the hem of Quinn’s top and Quinn quickly nodded.

When her top was removed and discarded on the floor, Rachel reached out, running a finger under the strap of Quinn’s bra and dragging it down, she followed with her mouth, placing kisses down one arm, then, as she pushed the second strap down, the other. Quinn reached behind her, unfastening the clasp and the garment dropped away.

This time, when Rachel leaned in for a kiss, her hands skimmed up Quinn’s stomach and traced the edges of her breasts. “Please,” Quinn groaned between kisses. “Rachel, please touch me.”

Quinn couldn’t help the strangled sound she released when Rachel cupped the full weight of her breasts in her hands. Her thumbs moved lightly over Quinn’s nipples and Quinn felt the touch everywhere. She broke the kiss with a whimper and arched her back, offering herself up to Rachel’s fingers.

Rachel began pinching and rolling her nipples an as the pressure increased, so did Quinn’s vocalisations, until she was moaning with almost every exhale.

“God, Rachel. That feels amazing,” she said and Rachel just smiled before dipping her head and drawing one nipple into her mouth. Quinn’s body jerked the moment Rachel’s hot mouth surrounded her and she gripped the back of Rachel’s head, holding her against her breast. If Rachel’s fingers had been amazing, this was... this was pure heaven.

She could no longer felt she had the strength to hold her body upright and they crashed backwards onto the bed. Rachel’s mouth left her breast and Quinn whined in disappointment, but then her head fell back and her back arched as Rachel started kissing downwards.

Quinn sucked in heavy breaths as Rachel kissed and licked over the trembling muscles of her abdomen. She paid an inordinate amount of attention to her navel, swirling around it with the tip of her tongue before dipping inside. Quinn let out a surprised squeak at the feeling. She’d never known her belly button was so sensitive, but every press of Rachel’s tongue caused a corresponding throb of pleasure between her legs.

After what seemed like hours, when Quinn was nothing more than a trembling mess of pure need, Rachel reached the waistband of her sweatpants. She kissed along the top and then began easing them and Quinn’s panties down and off Quinn’s body. When they had been removed, Rachel stood up momentarily to strip off her own clothes, before kneeling back down between Quinn’s parted legs.

Rachel trailed her hands over Quinn’s thighs, causing the muscles to jump and twitch. Quinn’s hips were rocking involuntarily and she felt like she would die if Rachel didn’t do something immediately. “I can’t—I can’t take anymore teasing,” she said, desperately—helplessly.

Rachel smiled then swiftly moved back up the bed to capture Quinn’s lips in a kiss. “I told you I’d take care of you,” she said when they broke to gasp in lungfuls of air. Quinn felt fingers, then, pressing against her, sliding through her wetness and she cried out, her head dropping back and eyes closing at the pleasure of finally, finally having some relief from the insistent pounding of her arousal.

Rachel circled around her entrance, pressing lightly but never fully penetrating her, and Quinn chased the movement with her hips. “Please...  please,” she whimpered. “Inside.” And as if Rachel had been waiting for permission, that was all it took. Two fingers slid deep and Quinn bucked up, taking them deeper still. They curled and scissored inside of her and Quinn cried out frantically.

“That’s it,” Rachel whispered, breath hot and wet against her ear. “You feel amazing. So tight and warm around my fingers.”

“Rachel,” Quinn panted. Her head began to toss restlessly against the pillow as she fought to drive herself down harder onto Rachel’s hand.

“I can’t wait to feel you come,” Rachel continued, moving her mouth along Quinn’s collarbone, nipping and sucking at the skin there between words. “God, you’re so wet, Quinn. I wish I could taste you right now.”

“Please, Rachel, please, make me come, please make me come.” Quinn was no longer in control of anything, an endless stream of words dropped from her mouth but she had no idea what she was saying. The only thing she was aware of was the feel of Rachel’s fingers buried deep inside of her and the waves of pleasure crashing through her body, building to a release that was surely going to destroy her from the inside.

The muscles in Quinn’s thighs began to twitch insistently, the coiling inside her body drawing tighter and tighter with each passing second and when Rachel moved her hand to press her thumb against Quinn’s clit, she was done. She cried out helplessly as her release rushed through her, white hot flashes of pure pleasure spiking through her veins and setting her body to violent shuddering. It seemed to go on forever, Rachel’s fingers dragging out every last second until, with one final aftershock, she stilled.

“Jesus,” she said breathlessly, looking at Rachel through half-closed eyes. “That was... you were...”

“Amazing?” Rachel asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Quinn chuckled. “Amazing.”

“I’m glad.”

Rachel relaxed back next to Quinn then and Quinn turned on her side, running her fingers along the soft skin of Rachel’s stomach. “Do you want me to...”

Rachel gave her a searching look. “It’s not generally... expected that the client take my needs into consideration,” she said quietly.

“I want to,” Quinn replied. “Please.”

Rachel nodded her assent and Quinn dropped her fingers further, slipping into the overwhelming wetness between Rachel’s thighs.

“God,” she breathed out in awe. “You’re so wet.” Rachel whimpered and nodded, biting her lip as her hips rocked into Quinn’s touch.

“Just—it won’t take much, just—touch my clit, please.”

Quinn couldn’t believe Rachel had gotten so aroused just by what she’d done to her. It made her feel—well things she shouldn’t be feeling. She slid the pads of two fingers over Rachel’s clit and Rachel hissed, hips jumping from the bed. It wasn’t going to take long, but Quinn wanted to remember every second. She dipped down, gathering some of the abundant wetness on her fingertips before returning to rubbing circles over Rachel’s nerves.

Rachel gripped desperately onto Quinn’s forearm, nails pressing perfect crescents into the skin, and her breath catching in her throat as she trembled.

When it was over, she blew out a heavy breath and they lay in silence for a few minutes until Rachel sat up, looking around for her dress.

“I have to be going,” she said.

“Of course,” Quinn replied, but she couldn’t look at Rachel. It was too much.

“If you ever want to... I’ll leave my card downstairs.”

“Thank you. It was wonderful—you were wonderful.”

“It was my pleasure. I’ll see myself out.”

And with a quick press of her lips to Quinn’s cheek, Rachel slipped on her dress and was gone.


End file.
